


Merry Christmas, Mr. Rogers

by CalsLaundry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Female Reader, Sadness, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 10:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalsLaundry/pseuds/CalsLaundry
Summary: -It’s perfectly Christmassy, and as you sit there with your own Christmas sweater on, you hate the images that come to mind of the space beside you being occupied by Mr. Rogers.-It's pure angst. I can't justify it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one is with She/Her pronouns.  
> Chapter two is with He/Him pronouns.
> 
> As for the songs used, they can be found in this two song playlist; https://open.spotify.com/user/1190498265/playlist/5WDYjfnc8h53vFZWrfYV8C?si=_Oota3GtRxW2uhmtAbtkow

The Rogers house is always beautiful. The ceilings are high, the windows massive, and there is such comfort in a fireplace that size. But the Rogers house at Christmas is something else entirely. When you walk up the path, now decorated with little lamps with red bows, the whole place seems magical. On the front porch, there’s a tree decorated with red and gold and topped with a star. The lights are a a warm yellow, and the same glow twists around a garland that drapes above the door and down the sides. You knock, and admire the two lanterns you hadn’t spotted; the trees were far too eye catching. 

“Hello, happy Christmas!” Peggy wraps an arm around you as she opens the door, and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. You return the gesture with a wide smile.

“And many happy returns, Mrs. Rogers! You look amazing!”   
And you mean it. Her dress is a black off the shoulder peplum style with glitter that shimmers like stars when the light catches them. Paired with her dark hair, the outfit makes her red lips pop. 

“Thank you, dear, but I admit, it’s been quite some time since I wore heels like this!” 

She laughs again, and it’s from pure joy. She’s definitely excited for the night.

“Bup!”

A small, dirty blonde figure runs toward you, and without thinking, you catch him under the armpits and lift him until he’s sitting in your arms.

“James, you’re still awake?!” Your gasp is theatrical. “What will Santa say?”

He puts a finger to his lips in a “shush” motion. He whispers to you, but it comes out far louder than a whisper. 

“We won’t tell”

“But you know the song, don’t you?”

He thinks for a moment.

“He sees me when I’m sleeping?” he asks, playing with your hair as he speaks.

“Yup!” You lean in and whisper to him, “And you know what else?”   
With wide eyes, he stops playing with your hair and he whispers back, “what?”

“He knows when you’re awake too”

“No!”    
Peggy smiles as she watches you, and she beckons you to follow her through to the kitchen.

“He does! Your mummy told me he even has an elf to watch you.”

You set him down and he scrambles onto a chair.

“Yes, but the elf isn’t in my room, so he won’t see me sleep!” There’s victory in his smirk and he looks exactly like Peggy.

“But if he’s around the house, he’ll see you up!” 

His face falls and he thinks about it.

“That means he’ll hear when you’re told to go to bed too, darling” 

Peggy adds with a smile.

“But,” he looks back to you, “you’re always good to go to bed, aren’t cha?” He nods and you laugh at him as Peggy goes to the stairs.

“You had your supper?”   
“Yup!”

“You wanna watch sooooooooome…” you tilt your head back and forth “Disney movie?” 

He nods again and hops off the chair to go pick a movie from under the television in the joined living room. You follow him and gather his favourite things; his dog blanket, his juice cup, and his slippers.

He returns with “Frozen” and holds it out to you.

“‘Cause it’s Christmas!” 

“Can’t fault you there, bud! Okay, get your seat ready, I’ll pop this in.”

You set up the DVD while he messily gathers his blanket into what he has deemed the perfect position. You leave it on the menu, and kneel in front of him to help him with his slippers.

“Okay, we have a movie, blanket, slippers...” He holds up a finger for each item you list.

“Very good! What else do we need?”   
“Juice!” 

“Yes, a good idea! What else?”

He scrunches his face in thought.

“Snacks?”

“You don’t sound sure.”   
“Do you want a snack?” 

You laugh at his offer.

“I swear, he’s got better manners than we do.” 

The voice throws you off, and you look up to the source.

“Mr. Rogers! Good to see you” 

“You too, happy Christmas.” You hold out a hand, but he opens his arms instead and you accept the hug. In the back of your mind, you pray he doesn’t hear what it does to your heart rate. When you part, he looks over you again, though his face breaks into a smile when he spots your sweater.

“Very festive.” 

“I have to be! ‘Tis the season, Mr. Rogers.”

He’s in a suit and you try not to stare, you really do.

“You’re not wrong.” he chuckles, and turns to go back to the kitchen. You take James’s juice cup and follow him out. It’s not unusual for you to make yourself at home around both him and Peggy. They found it easier to get out of the house without too much protest if you start settling James down while they’re still around. You fill his juice cup, and though you try to stay out of Mr. Roger’s way, more than once, he passes close enough to brush against you. You’re not even sure what he’s doing, but when you have James’ snacks and juice ready, you turn, and he does at the same time, and there’s a very almost collision. “

“Whoops!” He holds your shoulders and you look up at him, and  _ God _ , you hate what that look does to you.

“Sorry,” you squeak, “Wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“It’s fine. No harm done.” He glances over his shoulder to see James still staring at the menu, and he steals an animal cracker. 

“He always catches me when you’re not here” 

You laugh at him and his hands fall down your arms with the barest touch. You drop your gaze and scoot around him like nothing happened and sit yourself beside James. 

“Okay, you ready, kiddo?”   
He nods and sips his juice. 

You press play and you already know he’ll be out before the end of the movie.

As his parents are set to leave, they come up behind the couch, and Peggy bends down beside him. 

“Behave yourself, darling, remember the elf!” he gives her a one armed hug that doesn’t quite work and she kisses his cheek. When Steve bends over the couch, it’s right on your side, and his face passes close by as he ruffles his son’s hair. 

“See you later” 

He pats his father’s hand and they offer you waves and “goodbyes” as they leave. You turn back to the screen. It isn’t long before James is singing with every song, and it’s not much longer before he’s dozing off against your shoulder. You pause the movie, and with care, you lift him and carry him up the stairs. You tuck him in and make sure his night light is on before you head back downstairs. There’s a little tidying to do after his movie time, and you do it with the movie playing. With everything back in order, you sit and enjoy the ambiance of the room. It’s cosy. It’s a bright room, one that you love more than any other at this time of year. The tree matches the one in the front of the house, but it’s bigger. The fire is fake, but the heat in the room is still comfortable enough that you could sleep here with ease(and you have). Above the fireplace, there’s a long garland of rich green decorated with candles and bows, and other lights and decorations dot the room. It’s perfectly Christmassy, and as you sit there with your own Christmas sweater on, you hate the images that come to mind of the space beside you being occupied by Mr. Rogers.

 

Steve loves seeing Peggy socia lise. Her work life is important, and to see her converse and attract all kinds of looks across the room makes him proud. S he looks beautiful, like his own star.

And, God, how he hated himself for looking at the babysitter as if she was that night sky eternity in one person. She is beautiful always, but Steve always looked back to his wife. But it had gotten harder with each meeting. The way she looked at him in the kitchen, how her heart rate spiked during that hug; there was something so tender about her. He watches his wife, she casts a glance over to be sure he’s doing okay, and he tries to hide how desperately he wants to be back there. To be beside her on the couch. Just to hear her laugh, hum along, everything. He had caught her singing with James during Disney songs a million times, and with each note, he fell for her more. It wasn’t just those moments. It was in glances, brief touches, the moments when they sat in silence, encompassed by only the warmth of whatever was between them. It was in the way she had sighed when he covered her with a blanket the night that she’d fallen asleep on the couch. He knows he shouldn’t love her. He has a wife and a child, and still, when Peggy takes his hand, it’s not Peggy he sees. It’s not the dark curls, or red smile. It’s that Christmas sweater. It’s not this room he sees. It’s his living room. It’s not a sweet, sultry, familiar touch of his wife. It’s hers, as she twirls in front of him, laughter lighting up her face, and the colours of the room bouncing off the apples of her cheeks. It’s a look of love, the purest kind, the most innocent. He saw it in her when they were in the kitchen, and when they hugged, and he prayed to every being he could that he could see it just once more. He rests his cheek against Peggy’s hair, the melody takes over, though it’s painfully ironic; “I can’t help falling in love with you”. He closes his eyes, and pictures her against him, her arm around his waist, her hand in his own. And if he died right now, it would be a happy death. Not because Peggy is against him. But because he can only see  _ her  _ and no one else in the room. 

 

When the door opens, you’re checking your phone with some Christmas movie running on the television. You look over your shoulder and Peggy walks in first. Her cheeks are pink, and you don’t know if it’s the cold or the wine. She giggles and gets a glass of water, and you decide it’s the wine. 

“Did you guys have a good night, Mrs. Rogers?” 

She nods, looking so much like her son in the process. 

“Fantastic. Maybe too good a time.” 

She ends it with a yawn. 

“Thank you, you’re great as always. Was James okay?”

“Yeah, barely got halfway through “Frozen” and he was out” you laugh with her, and Steve steps to the doorway.

“Okay, I am going to bed, there was...far too much wine. Goodnight, sweetie” she waves at you, and meets Steve at the door. “Goodnight, darling”, she kisses the corner of his mouth and you look away in an effort to hide a twinge of jealousy. When you hear her careful steps up the stairs, you stand, ready to make your way home before the cold gets any worse. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

“Yes, the music was lovely, very...festive.” 

You smile at the call back to your earlier conversation. 

“I haven’t heard much Christmas music this year.” 

“Neither have I. It wasn’t strictly Christmassy. But good for dancing.”

“I never saw you as a dancer, Mr. Rogers”

“Are you?”   
You hide a smile.

“Not much, I’ve never really had the chance. I danced at my prom, and that’s about it”

He smiles back, and with a glance at the door, as if to be sure you’re alone, he takes out his phone. The sound of the Christmas movie is replaced with the twinkle of a song you know well.

“You’re right; “Lady In Red” isn’t Christmassy” 

He laughs. 

“Right? But a beautiful song.”

He steps forward and holds a hand out. 

“Can I have this dance?” 

You bite at your lip out of sheer nervousness but you take it. It’s automatic, like magnets pulled together. Your other hand lands on his shoulder and his free hand holds your waist. There’s still distance. You follow his lead, and it’s simple, really. But the song leaves no secret for you. Your thoughts no longer fee; arcane, instead, you’re exposed before him. His scent even from this distance makes you dizzy, but you find yourself moving closer. The hand on your waist moves to your back, you’re almost nose to nose with him. Your heart pounds and you know your cheeks are red. 

“You’re not a bad dancer, you know.” 

His words surprise you. They’re low and the air against your lips makes them tingle. You giggle. 

“It’s because I’ve a good leader”

The song switches. Something far more intimate, soft. “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You”.

“I didn’t peg you for a Bublé fan, Mr. Rogers.”

“Some songs, yes.” 

His tone is more serious, and there is the barest frown on his brow. 

“You don’t have to dance to this with me.” Your words are barely a whisper, and he stops.   
If the last song was too revealing, this one is...beyond that. Exposed becomes baring your soul. He’s still, but he pulls you closer. You take a breath and he moves again, the softest sway in him. His eyes are on the floor, but they meet yours as you look up at him. The song echoes a million sentiments lost to the air between you. The weight between you is too much, and you feel yourself slip further. 

_ “Take my whole life too” _

You glance down and back to his eyes, and in that moment you know he feels the same way. In his eyes, you see a whole life you can never have. Every morning and night together, every soft whisper of affection, every tear, every cuss, every kiss. But this dance, this moment, it’s a perfect moment to pretend. You offer yourself, every part of yourself, and he reciprocates. When your lips meet his, it’s tender and divine. His lips are soft but against you, they speak long lyrics of poetry and unsaid words that have lingered too long. You part and the look in his eyes is one of loss but such happiness. In a single breath, you’ve known what you could be, and in that same breath, it was ripped away. You step back from him, but he holds your hand in both of his own. On that last lyric, he meets your eyes and kisses your hand. You could never have this perfection again. But to know true love is worth it. The moment would last a lifetime, and if you left this world right as it ended, you would leave smiling. But instead, you can only swallow the lump in your throat and whisper a quiet “Goodnight, Mr. Rogers, merry Christmas.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Rogers house is always beautiful. The ceilings are high, the windows massive, and there is such comfort in a fireplace that size. But the Rogers house at Christmas is something else entirely. When you walk up the path, now decorated with little lamps with red bows, the whole place seems magical. On the front porch, there’s a tree decorated with red and gold and topped with a star. The lights are a a warm yellow, and the same glow twists around a garland that drapes above the door and down the sides. You knock, and admire the two lanterns you hadn’t spotted; the trees were far too eye catching. 

“Hello, happy Christmas!” Peggy wraps an arm around you as she opens the door, and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. You return the gesture with a wide smile.

“And many happy returns, Mrs. Rogers! You look amazing!”   
And you mean it. Her dress is a black off the shoulder peplum style with glitter that shimmers like stars when the light catches them. Paired with her dark hair, the outfit makes her red lips pop. 

“Thank you, dear, but I admit, it’s been quite some time since I wore heels like this!” 

She laughs again, and it’s from pure joy. She’s definitely excited for the night.

“Bup!”

A small, dirty blonde figure runs toward you, and without thinking, you catch him under the armpits and lift him until he’s sitting in your arms.

“James, you’re still awake?!” Your gasp is theatrical. “What will Santa say?”

He puts a finger to his lips in a “shush” motion. He whispers to you, but it comes out far louder than a whisper. 

“We won’t tell”

“But you know the song, don’t you?”

He thinks for a moment.

“He sees me when I’m sleeping?” he asks, playing with your hair as he speaks.

“Yup!” You lean in and whisper to him, “And you know what else?”   
With wide eyes, he stops playing with your hair and he whispers back, “what?”

“He knows when you’re awake too”

“No!”    
Peggy smiles as she watches you, and she beckons you to follow her through to the kitchen.

“He does! Your mummy told me he even has an elf to watch you.”

You set him down and he scrambles onto a chair.

“Yes, but the elf isn’t in my room, so he won’t see me sleep!” There’s victory in his smirk and he looks exactly like Peggy.

“But if he’s around the house, he’ll see you up!” 

His face falls and he thinks about it.

“That means he’ll hear when you’re told to go to bed too, darling” 

Peggy adds with a smile.

“But,” he looks back to you, “you’re always good to go to bed, aren’t cha?” He nods and you laugh at him as Peggy goes to the stairs.

“You had your supper?”   
“Yup!”

“You wanna watch sooooooooome…” you tilt your head back and forth “Disney movie?” 

He nods again and hops off the chair to go pick a movie from under the television in the joined living room. You follow him and gather his favourite things; his dog blanket, his juice cup, and his slippers.

He returns with “Frozen” and holds it out to you.

“‘Cause it’s Christmas!” 

“Can’t fault you there, bud! Okay, get your seat ready, I’ll pop this in.”

You set up the DVD while he messily gathers his blanket into what he has deemed the perfect position. You leave it on the menu, and kneel in front of him to help him with his slippers.

“Okay, we have a movie, blanket, slippers...” He holds up a finger for each item you list.

“Very good! What else do we need?”   
“Juice!” 

“Yes, a good idea! What else?”

He scrunches his face in thought.

“Snacks?”

“You don’t sound sure.”   
“Do you want a snack?” 

You laugh at his offer.

“I swear, he’s got better manners than we do.” 

The voice throws you off, and you look up to the source.

“Mr. Rogers! Good to see you” 

“You too, happy Christmas.” You hold out a hand, but he opens his arms instead and you accept the hug. In the back of your mind, you pray he doesn’t hear what it does to your heart rate. When you part, he looks over you again, though his face breaks into a smile when he spots your sweater.

“Very festive.” 

“I have to be! ‘Tis the season, Mr. Rogers.”

He’s in a suit and you try not to stare, you really do.

“You’re not wrong.” he chuckles, and turns to go back to the kitchen. You take James’s juice cup and follow him out. It’s not unusual for you to make yourself at home around both him and Peggy. They found it easier to get out of the house without too much protest if you start settling James down while they’re still around. You fill his juice cup, and though you try to stay out of Mr. Roger’s way, more than once, he passes close enough to brush against you. You’re not even sure what he’s doing, but when you have James’ snacks and juice ready, you turn, and he does at the same time, and there’s a very almost collision. “

“Whoops!” He holds your shoulders and you look up at him, and  _ God _ , you hate what that look does to you.

“Sorry,” you squeak, “Wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

“It’s fine. No harm done.” He glances over his shoulder to see James still staring at the menu, and he steals an animal cracker. 

“He always catches me when you’re not here” 

You laugh at him and his hands fall down your arms with the barest touch. You drop your gaze and scoot around him like nothing happened and sit yourself beside James. 

“Okay, you ready, kiddo?”   
He nods and sips his juice. 

You press play and you already know he’ll be out before the end of the movie.

As his parents are set to leave, they come up behind the couch, and Peggy bends down beside him. 

“Behave yourself, darling, remember the elf!” he gives her a one armed hug that doesn’t quite work and she kisses his cheek. When Steve bends over the couch, it’s right on your side, and his face passes close by as he ruffles his son’s hair. 

“See you later” 

He pats his father’s hand and they offer you waves and “goodbyes” as they leave. You turn back to the screen. It isn’t long before James is singing with every song, and it’s not much longer before he’s dozing off against your shoulder. You pause the movie, and with care, you lift him and carry him up the stairs. You tuck him in and make sure his night light is on before you head back downstairs. There’s a little tidying to do after his movie time, and you do it with the movie playing. With everything back in order, you sit and enjoy the ambiance of the room. It’s cosy. It’s a bright room, one that you love more than any other at this time of year. The tree matches the one in the front of the house, but it’s bigger. The fire is fake, but the heat in the room is still comfortable enough that you could sleep here with ease(and you have). Above the fireplace, there’s a long garland of rich green decorated with candles and bows, and other lights and decorations dot the room. It’s perfectly Christmassy, and as you sit there with your own Christmas sweater on, you hate the images that come to mind of the space beside you being occupied by Mr. Rogers.

 

Steve loves seeing Peggy socia lise. Her work life is important, and to see her converse and attract all kinds of looks across the room makes him proud. S he looks beautiful, like his own star.

And, God, how he hated himself for looking at the babysitter as if he was that night sky eternity in one person. He is gorgeous always, but Steve always looked back to his wife. But it had gotten harder with each meeting. The way he looked at him in the kitchen, how his heart rate spiked during that hug; there was something so tender about him. He watches his wife, she casts a glance over to be sure he’s doing okay, and he tries to hide how desperately he wants to be back there. To be beside him on the couch. Just to hear him laugh, hum along, everything. He had caught him singing with James during Disney songs a million times, and with each note, he fell for him more. It wasn’t just those moments. It was in glances, brief touches, the moments when they sat in silence, encompassed by only the warmth of whatever was between them. It was in the way he had sighed when he covered him with a blanket the night that he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Steve knows he shouldn’t love him. He has a wife and a child, and still, when Peggy takes his hand, it’s not Peggy he sees. It’s not the dark curls, or red smile. It’s that Christmas sweater. It’s not this room he sees. It’s his living room. It’s not a sweet, sultry, familiar touch of his wife. It’s his, as he twirls in front of him, laughter lighting up his face, and the colours of the room bouncing off the apples of his cheeks. It’s a look of love, the purest kind, the most innocent. He saw it in him when they were in the kitchen, and when they hugged, and he prayed to every being he could that he could see it just once more. He rests his cheek against Peggy’s hair, the melody takes over, though it’s painfully ironic; “I can’t help falling in love with you”. He closes his eyes, and pictures him against his chest, his arm around his waist, his hand in his own. And if he died right now, it would be a happy death. Not because Peggy is against him. But because he can only see  _ him  _ and no one else in the room. 

 

When the door opens, you’re checking your phone with some Christmas movie running on the television. You look over your shoulder and Peggy walks in first. Her cheeks are pink, and you don’t know if it’s the cold or the wine. She giggles and gets a glass of water, and you decide it’s the wine. 

“Did you guys have a good night, Mrs. Rogers?” 

She nods, looking so much like her son in the process. 

“Fantastic. Maybe too good a time.” 

She ends it with a yawn. 

“Thank you, you’re great as always. Was James okay?”

“Yeah, barely got halfway through “Frozen” and he was out” you laugh with her, and Steve steps to the doorway.

“Okay, I am going to bed, there was...far too much wine. Goodnight, sweetie” she waves at you, and meets Steve at the door. “Goodnight, darling”, she kisses the corner of his mouth and you look away in an effort to hide a twinge of jealousy. When you hear her careful steps up the stairs, you stand, ready to make your way home before the cold gets any worse. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

“Yes, the music was lovely, very...festive.” 

You smile at the call back to your earlier conversation. 

“I haven’t heard much Christmas music this year.” 

“Neither have I. It wasn’t strictly Christmassy. But good for dancing.”

“I never saw you as a dancer, Mr. Rogers”

“Are you?”   
You hide a smile.

“Not much, I’ve never really had the chance. I danced at my prom, and that’s about it”

He smiles back, and with a glance at the door, as if to be sure you’re alone, he takes out his phone. The sound of the Christmas movie is replaced with the twinkle of a song you know well.

“You’re right; “Lady In Red” isn’t Christmassy” 

He laughs. 

“Right? But a beautiful song.”

He steps forward and holds a hand out. 

“Can I have this dance?” 

You bite at your lip out of sheer nervousness but you take it. It’s automatic, like magnets pulled together. Your other hand lands on his shoulder and his free hand holds your waist. There’s still distance. You follow his lead, and it’s simple, really. But the song leaves no secret for you. Your thoughts no longer fee; arcane, instead, you’re exposed before him. His scent even from this distance makes you dizzy, but you find yourself moving closer. The hand on your waist moves to your back, you’re almost nose to nose with him. Your heart pounds and you know your cheeks are red. 

“You’re not a bad dancer, you know.” 

His words surprise you. They’re low and the air against your lips makes them tingle. You giggle. 

“It’s because I’ve a good leader”

The song switches. Something far more intimate, soft. “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You”.

“I didn’t peg you for a Bublé fan, Mr. Rogers.”

“Some songs, yes.” 

His tone is more serious, and there is the barest frown on his brow. 

“You don’t have to dance to this with me.” Your words are barely a whisper, and he stops.   
If the last song was too revealing, this one is...beyond that. Exposed becomes baring your soul. He’s still, but he pulls you closer. You take a breath and he moves again, the softest sway in him. His eyes are on the floor, but they meet yours as you look up at him. The song echoes a million sentiments lost to the air between you. The weight between you is too much, and you feel yourself slip further. 

_ “Take my whole life too” _

You glance down and back to his eyes, and in that moment you know he feels the same way. In his eyes, you see a whole life you can never have. Every morning and night together, every soft whisper of affection, every tear, every cuss, every kiss. But this dance, this moment, it’s a perfect moment to pretend. You offer yourself, every part of yourself, and he reciprocates. When your lips meet his, it’s tender and divine. His lips are soft but against you, they speak long lyrics of poetry and unsaid words that have lingered too long. You part and the look in his eyes is one of loss but such happiness. In a single breath, you’ve known what you could be, and in that same breath, it was ripped away. You step back from him, but he holds your hand in both of his own. On that last lyric, he meets your eyes and kisses your hand. You could never have this perfection again. But to know true love is worth it. The moment would last a lifetime, and if you left this world right as it ended, you would leave smiling. But instead, you can only swallow the lump in your throat and whisper a quiet “Goodnight, Mr. Rogers, merry Christmas.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Newgrounds: https://calslaundry.newgrounds.com/   
> Instagram: CalsLaundry  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Newgrounds: https://calslaundry.newgrounds.com/  
> Instagram: CalsLaundry  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


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